The Louisiana Center for the Book in the State Library of Louisiana is announcing the 2014 winners in the annual Letters About Literature contest, a national reading-writing competition that asks students to write a personal letter to an author or poet, living or dead, explaining how that writer's work impacted the students’ life or worldview. The Letters About Literature national headquarters received 379 entries from Louisiana students.

The Louisiana winners of the competition from throughout the state are listed below.

Level I (grades 4 – 6)

1st Place:

Arden Frantzen, Episcopal School of Acadiana, Lafayette

2nd Place:

Aline Malek, Episcopal School of Acadiana, Lafayette

3rd Place:

Jillian Martin, Southern Magnolia Montessori School, Abita Springs

Honorable Mention:

Lucy Vanderbrook, Southern Magnolia Montessori School, Abita Springs

Level II (grades 7 – 8)

1st Place:

Jordyn Bernardi, Northwestern Middle School, Zachary

2nd Place:

Emily Trinh, Lusher Charter School, New Orleans

3rd Place:

Rachel Carney, Lusher Charter School, New Orlean

Honorable Mention:

Chloe St. Germain-Vermillion, Paul Breaux Middle School, Lafayette

Level III (grades 9 – 12)

1st Place:

Hannah McNew, Cedar Creek School, Ruston

2nd Place:

Brett Gobert, Port Allen High School, Port Allen

3rd Place:

Claire Bullock, home-school, Zachary

Honorable Mention:

Madelyn Gaharan, Bolton High School, Alexandria

State winners will be recognized at the Louisiana Book Festival on Nov. 1. Students will be awarded $100 for first place, $75 for second place and $50 for third place, made possible by a Library of Congress grant. Louisiana’s first place winners’ entries have been submitted to the Library of Congress for the national competition.

To see a list of all state finalists and read the winners’ letters, visit www.state.lib.la.us. Letters About Literature is presented in partnership with the Library of Congress Center for the Book and the Louisiana Writing Project.

I am writing to you about your novel, Kira-Kira. I found your book in our school’s library when I had to read a realistic fiction book for class. I liked Kira-Kira because the back of the book summary was catchy. Also, I liked the Japanese title and the way a picture of two girls standing side-by-side showed up when I opened the book all the way up so I could see the front and back cover together.

I didn’t really know what realistic fiction was until I read your book. I thought it was just going to be a story about two sisters, but it was way more than that. In your book, the sisters, Katie and Lynn, wanted to go with their family to the beach. Who doesn’t want to go the beach? It looked like they would never get to go to the beach because they moved to places where they didn’t really fit in, and then Lynn got lymphoma.

At first, I was really sad for Katie and Lynn, because everything went wrong for them. Katie started off mad because she felt like she would never get to the beach. Lynn, who should have been mad too that she would never make it to the beach because she was dying, was happy anyway. I learned from Lynn, just like Katie did, that there is Kira-Kira, or glittering and shining things, all around us all the time. When Katie finally made it to the beach without Lynn, she saw the Kira-Kira at the beach, and she even heard it in the sound of the waves. Just like Katie, I learned we get to choose what we see, and if we don’t look for the Kira-Kira, we will miss it and never know we had it.

Mrs. Kadohata, your book changed me because it is so much like my life right now. My grandfather and his brother, Poochie, who is my great-uncle, are like Katie and Lynn. Poochie got very sick just like Lynn. He is in the hospital with six months left to say his goodbyes. Every year, we saw Poochie at Thanksgiving and Christmas, but his grandchildren were not there because they live far away in places like Brazil, where vacations don’t happen at the same time ours do. All Poochie ever wanted was a family reunion at the beach to have all of our family together at the same time. They won’t let kids my age go into the hospital room where my great-uncle is right now. If I could go and talk to him, I would tell him he shouldn’t feel bad about not going to the beach. Life’s not about having to go somewhere to find the Kira-Kira moments. I hope we get to the beach one day, but if we don’t, we still have Kira-Kira all around us every day if we look for it. And I’m happy about that. Thank you very much.

Sincerely,

Arden Frantzen

LEVEL 1, 4-6 GRADES

Second Place

Aline Malek

Episcopal School of Acadiana

Lafayette, LA

Dear John Bul Dau and Martha Arual Akech,

I am writing to you about your book, Lost Boy, Lost Girl: Escaping Civil War in Sudan. When I saw the cover to your book, I immediately grabbed it.

I can relate to this book and the characters, John and Martha. Every summer, I go to Lebanon to see my family. There is a war in Syria and Lebanon. When I went to Lebanon this year, I was scared. My family and I usually walk on the street, because everything is so close by. The open air market has local fruits and vegetables. There is no computer or scanning system. There are weights to weigh your produce. There are no money signs, you just call out to the shop owner and ask, “What’s the price? How much are these carrots?” The people are arguing and trying to make a bargain. That summer, I didn’t see the happy side of all the people, I just thought of their dark side.

Every step I took or every turn on the sidewalk, I kept saying, “What if? What if a Syrian group hit the part of the city where my family was staying? What if something happened to them? Would I be left alone?”

I was a kid when the war started just like John and Martha. This book tells John’s and Martha’s story of their escape from the war in Sudan. I couldn’t imagine having to walk on foot all that way with barely anything to eat, no shelter, and no map. John and Martha always helped others before themselves. They were leaders. I think I would be less fearful if I went to Lebanon now. If John and Martha were courageous and always hopeful along the journey, I could be that, too. If John and Martha survived, I would have the chance to survive too.

Thank you, John Bul Dau and Martha Arual Akech, for teaching me about courage and always having hope.

Your Reader,

Aline Malek

LEVEL 1, 4-6 GRADES

Third Place

Jillian Martin

Southern Magnolia Montessori School

Abita Springs, LA

Dear Wendy Mass,

Turning twelve is a big deal. I am only eleven, and luckily I have already done some of these things that your character Rory Swenson put on her list in Twelve Finally. My mom says that I can do more of them on September 16, 2014, which is my birthday. I am highly looking forward to my years ahead, like Rory did. Your book inspired me to make my own list. My list is as follows:

Shave my legs.

Wear makeup.

Read and watch The Hunger Games.

Get dropped off at places

Sit in the front seat.

Babysit.

My mom usually is not that easy to persuade into doing things. I normally have to beg and plead for her to say yes. That doesn’t always work. My dad, on the other hand, always says yes. This is the list that I would do for them if they let me do my list.

Mow the lawn.

Babysit Pierce and Ava.

Go to the grocery store.

Thanks,

Jillian Martin

LEVEL 1, 4-6 GRADES

Honorable Mention

Lucy Vanderbrook

Southern Magnolia Montessori School

Abita Springs, LA

Dear Ruby Bridges,

New Orleans’ schools today have many students of different races. Sixty years ago that wasn’t true. When I found out that black students and white students couldn’t go to school together, I was shocked. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like. I am lucky to go to school with kids of all races.

I first discovered Through My Eyes at our school book club. It was the first time I learned about segregation. It seemed so unfair that black students and white students did not have the same education opportunities or rights. Reading about your struggles and courage to face the people who were so mean to you gave me strength to stand up to bullies or speak up when I think things aren’t fair, even if it’s hard.

When I saw you riding in the Muses Parade last Mardi Gras, I looked around and saw people of all races enjoying the parade in harmony. I thought to myself that New Orleans has come so far because of one little girl’s bravery and strength to stand up for what she believed in. I know now that even though I am a little girl, I can make a difference. Thank you for writing Through My Eyes.

Sincerely,

Lucy Vanderbrook

LEVEL 2, 7-8 GRADES

First Place

Jordyn Bernardi

Northwestern Middle School

Zachary, LA 70791

January 9, 2014

Dear Stephen Chbosky,

Your book, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, has changed my view, not on life in general, but on how I should view my own life. I guess I am what you would call an enthusiastic reader, but I hadn’t really read much in the time before I had stumbled across your book.

It was the middle of summer and the last thing I had read was probably the Percy Jackson series (for the 100th time), and that had been a month ago. I was trying not to read too many adventure or realistic fiction stories because they put me in a bad mood. Even though they were my favorite genres, reading about eccentric characters having life changing experiences made my days of sitting around in the soggy heat of summer seem boring and uneventful. I was miserable and I didn’t really have a good reason, unless I felt like talking about my poor relationship with my dad.

My parents are good people, and even better parents, but we don’t always see eye to eye. My little sister is virtually a miniature version of my mother, and my father and I seem to have the same brain, which may lead to our fights. See, my father and I both have short tempers, and if we get annoyed you will certainly know, as we will both lash out at anyone (or anything). I am a middle child, so in between a brother in college and an angelic baby sister, maybe I felt like I would get lost. Around the time I read your book, my father and I were arguing almost nightly.

My friend invited me to stay at her house and I needed a change, so I asked my dad to drive me down before we could fight. The next day we watched The Perks of Being a Wallflower, and I made a resolution to read the book.

As I dove deeper into the intricate tapestry that only the best books can weave, I found that slowly, my relationship with my father was mending. As I began to understand how important relationships could be through Charlie’s experiences, I realized that I needed to save what my dad and I used to have. I needed to learn to back down and let someone else decide once in a while.

Though I could never be the wallflower that Charlie is, I can now step down and realize that my parents know what they are doing, and that I can trust their judgment. More than that, one line from your book stuck with me. On page 28, Charlie’s dad tells him that, “Not everyone has a sob story, Charlie, and even if they do, it’s no excuse.” (Chbosky 28) This quote reminded me that I had no reason to be upset about my boring summer. Our lives aren’t supposed to be books, and if they were, no one would have an ounce of rest. Thank you for writing the first real book I’ve seen in a while and for showing me that family and friends are more important than any disagreement you can get into.

Sincerely,

Jordyn Bernardi

LEVEL 2, 7-8 GRADES

Second Place

Emily Trinh

Lusher Charter School

New Orleans, LA

Dear Mr. John Green:

Is it ok to weep for those we don’t know? For those individuals that don’t really exist? How can fictional characters feel so real when they are just a jumble of words, scrawled onto a page? But that’s the point; Hazel Grace and Augustus Waters were not just words, they were not just thoughts. They became a living image. They became my best friends in the span of a novel.

After The Fault in Our Stars, Augustus Waters hobbled his way into my heart. He wasn’t your average Joe; he was a unique guy. He didn’t fear failing tests or talking to girls, but he feared oblivion. He was afraid about after him; what would become of him? Would anyone remember him? Well, of course not, he was just a cancer kid. Hazel would remember, his family and friends would, but eventually, the memory of him would fade away as those who knew him died. Everyone in this world and everyone we read about in history, their memories will just disappear just the same. With this fear, Augustus created the barrier that separated him from the average fictional characters. This fear made him real because deep down, we all fear the same thing.

Then, there was Hazel Grace. Hazel Grace was one enormous plot twist. From the beginning, everyone thought she was going to die, she even believed it herself, so she became obsessed with lessening the scar she left on the world. She would close herself off, not wanting to be a ‘grenade’ to her family when she did die. Then, Augustus came. And she learned how foolish it was to try to lessen the scar. Personally, I think Hazel is a role model, but not because she was a cancer fighter, not because she fought so hard. I think she’s a role model for just who she is. A teen that fell helplessly in love with another teen. A girl that read a book about death. A 2000 version of Natalie Portman. She’s memorable to me because she was cancer, but cancer wasn’t her. Yes, she did struggle with everyday life because her “lungs suck at being lungs,” but that didn’t define her.

Even though Hazel and Gus made a wonderful pair, those two were living proof of “opposites attract,” Funny, outgoing, and handsome, Gus was the center of attention wherever he went. Hazel, on the other hand, was more to herself and tended to blend into the background. But when the two met, they brought out the best in each other.

The first time I read this book, I cried. Although they weren’t prominent tears, they were more like the slow, silent ones. It was more of grief than crying. Yet, this book still impacted my life. I remember finishing the book with that last line and feeling weightless as I closed the book. “It’s over,” I repeated in my head. That’s it. It was done. Augustus was gone. It felt as if I had lost one of my best friends or someone from my family. When reading it the first time, I didn’t find anything from it. There was no ‘ah ha!’ moment after I finished the book, but then I read it for the second time. Oh, how the tears started to flow then. I read the last few chapters on a day off from school, cuddling in the warmth of my blanket and teddy bears. As soon as my eyes fell on, “I lit up like a Christmas tree,” I collapsed. I couldn’t take it; all of the familiar feelings were coming back to me. I actually had to close the book to cry comfortably. I found myself crying because it felt all too real for me. I felt an emotional bond with Gus and when he died, I felt something ripped from my own heart.

Reading this book, I’ve learned many lessons. Oblivion is scary, cancer kids have perks, cancer kids also suffer, lungs can suck at being lungs, and you, John Green, can make me cry for the death of your beloved fictional characters. I hate that you made me cry, but I also thank you and forgive you for making me cry. If I hadn’t cried, then I wouldn’t have made a connection, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with words on a page, I wouldn’t have made two new best friends.

Sincerely,

Emily Trihn

LEVEL 2, 7-8 GRADES

Third Place

Rachel Carney

Lusher Charter School

New Orleans, LA

Dear Mr. William Golding,

In all honesty, when I began reading our novel, Lord of the Flies, I had thought it would just be another book I would read for school then forget about. As I read it, however, I realized just how wrong I had been. I was affected by this book on a deeply personal level because the ordeal the characters when through reminded me of what I had gone through years ago. I found myself entranced by your plot and characters. You had put boys my age and younger in a situation where it was basically eat or be eaten. You had trapped them on an island with seemingly no escape. As much as I loved the book, it horrified me as well. I could relate to your characters because I too once had my world ripped away from me, and I know what it’s like to be thrown in an unfamiliar situation with no warning. Your novel made me realize again that in just a matter of minutes your life can be completely destroyed, and that in a matter of days your innocence cold disappear, and this concept is absolutely terrifying.

Your book made me remember what it was like to have your life ripped away due to an unforeseen circumstance. When I was five years old, my city was almost destroyed by Hurricane Katrina. I was forced to leave my home and everything familiar to me behind, not unlike your characters. While I may not have been forced to fend for myself on a deserted island, I was still uprooted from my home with no warning and forced move into alien surroundings.

I may not have been forced onto a deserted island, but our living conditions after the storm weren’t exactly ideal. My family and I had moved into my Grandmother’s house in Texas, which wasn’t a castle, to say the least. My brothers and I had to share the only open bed, and my sister, who was just a baby at the time, slept next to us in her playpen. Her crying would keep us up late into the night, and there never seemed to be enough space to roll over.

I had to enter a new school in the middle of the semester. I was the new kid, the charity case, everything you’d never want to be in a school situation. The bullies picked on me, thinking I was an easy target. I may have only been five, but that didn’t make the situation any more pleasant. I couldn’t get close to the few friends I had managed to obtain because they had already formed their little groups, so I was essentially alone.

While we did have adults with us, it seemed as though it was just children in that small house. My mom was constantly working on paperwork of some sort trying to get us back in the city, and my dad made the commute for work, not between two highways, but between two states. My grandma was home along with my grandpa, but everyone always seemed so busy. My brothers and I entertained ourselves as best we could.

Like your boys on the island, my naivety began to slip away as the weeks wore on. Questions like, “When are we going home?” became less common as I began to realize that there wasn’t a home to go back to. My mother tried to hide what was going on, but I still have pictures from our city that they would show seared into my brain. I became aware of the fact that my home was destroyed, and to this day I can’t forget how horrid I felt when the crushing realization dawned on me.

Even when we returned home that December, the carefree spark in most children’s eyes never returned to mine. When I reunited with my friends from my home, they seemed to be the same way. On my computer we have two pictures. One of two of my friends and me smiling away on our first day of Kindergarten, obviously before Katrina. The other is the same two girls and me in the same place, only this time the happy gleam on our faces was gone. Our eyes dead and our faces fixed in scowls. You never forget how it feels to be ripped away from your whole world.

This traumatic event was what made me connect with your book so well. Your characters went through a bit of the ordeal I went through, though I was never abandoned on an island. I knew what the realization that you may never go home does to a child, and I could practically feel their pain. Your novel made me remember what it was like to be forced out of your home and placed in a different place, and that’s why it was such a personal book for me.

Sincerely,

Rachel Carney

LEVEL 2, 7-8 GRADES

Honorable Mention

Chloe St. Germain-Vermillion

Paul Breaux Middle School

Lafayette, LA

Dear Jay Asher,

My name is Chloe. I’m 14 years old and in the 8th grade. I’m an avid reader, and I’ve always known all books contain messages. They’re hidden. Hidden between each page, each sentence, each word, and each letter, but never have I read a book where the message has affected me quite like yours has. 13 Reasons Why is a book that’s changed me, and I’ll give you my reasons why it has.

It was as if you took a loaded syringe of emotion and injected it into my veins. Your book was filled to the brim with it, even overflowing onto the pages at times. Your novel unveiled one of the world’s many shameful secrets that I once failed to see. The world favors no one. Many fall from its embrace into a dark void they’ve made inside themselves. And it only deludes the lucky ones into thinking that they’re safe from judgment, but are they really? The answer is no. Your book showed me that. That’s something I’ll never forget.

After reading your novel I looked into myself, and found out that maybe I had a few shameful secrets of my own. I had been too cruel to some, those unlucky. It made me look at myself as a stranger; someone I didn’t even know existed. I changed for the better. It made me put myself in other shoes, everyone’s shoes. I had darkness, and your book was my flashlight, guiding me through.

This book was meaningful to me on so many levels. I think one of the reasons why is because of how relevant the book is to society today. It wasn’t afraid to deal with controversial topics, like depression, slut shaming, abuse, and even rape. So many people skirt around these problems like they’re not their problem, even though it’s all our problem. You dove right in, and I respect that greatly. It also makes you question yourself, and that’s the great thing about great books. Asking questions, about yourself, the people you associate yourself with, the world. Everything. That’s what makes this book so incredibly moving.

I know your work influenced me. I can feel it every day. I can feel it in everything I say. I look at the world differently. I look at society differently. But most importantly, I look at myself differently, and that’s what really matters to me.

Thank you,

Chloe Vermillion

LEVEL 3, 9-12 GRADES

First Place

Hannah McNew

Cedar Creek School

Ruston, LA

Dear Mr. Antoine de Satin-Exupery:

Good evening, sir! I suspect you won’t get this letter, unless it is carried to you on the winds since I know you are still lost somewhere out in air currents since that mission to Corsica in 1944 that you never returned from. I hope you find your way out soon, but I just have to get out some of my feelings about your book The Little Prince. Yes, I know it’s a children’s book but a sixteen-year-old is an old type of child, right? Right! Glad to know you’re on my team. Let me just lay you the foundation of my relationship with your book. I initially read it for a book report, but it transcended the tedium and misery that a book report usually gives me. After I had written the analysis, I treated myself to re-reading your translated story three more times before lovingly placing it on my bedside table right next to representatives from my other favorite things: empty Fanta bottles, a blue and purple flowered corsage wrapped around my lamp and a gift from my boyfriend, Who Wants a Cheap Rhinoceros? By Shel Silverstein.

As you can clearly see, Mr. de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince holds a place of high honor. If I can’t sleep, I’ll pick it up and flip to my favorite sections, and if I’m feeling particularly masochistic, I’ll even read how the little prince bid the pilot goodbye and let the snake take him home to his rose. Good God, that’s some powerful writing. I’m not here to flatter you, though, Mr. de Saint-Exupery. Your book overflows with meaning, but some meanings just hit me a little too close to home. Because of your deceptively innocent story, I am terrified of growing up. Well, it is mostly due to your book. You shouldn’t claim full credit. If J.M. Barrie and Lucy Maud Montgomery are where you are, be sure to read them the contents of this letter since it also applies to them. You are just unfortunate enough to get the brunt of the responsibility. Also, let me clarify that it isn’t the details like applying for college, going far away, getting a job (though, as my chosen career is musical theatre, I don’t think I ever have to worry about my job getting too grown up), paying rent, and balancing check books that scares me. Well, that does, too, but I don’t blame you. I blame that on my guidance counselor and the College Board. Those are just the external side effects of getting older, and as shown by the Pilot, it is possible to receive a grown-up education, get a grown-up job, have grown-up responsibilities, and talk with grown-people and still be able to see that a drawing is not a hat but a boa constrictor that ate an elephant. On the contrary, your book has made me paranoid about emotionally becoming an adult. I now consider adulthood to be the death of life and laughter and the food of boredom.

This is my junior year, and at every step, I worry that I’m exhibiting those world-weary adult mannerisms, and I have to wonder if it’s the actual number of years I have been alive that starts taking away youthful vivacity or just the added pressure that society puts on a “young adult.” I think it is probably the latter. I can see how the projects I am expected to undertake are beginning to mold me into those adults that the little prince finds idling on their tiny planets. At my youth theatre, I often find myself in charge because I have suddenly become one of the “older kids,” the people I revered when I was a young thespian. I’ll be leading a quick dance review when suddenly a friend corrects my mistake. On the outside, I thank them and make a quick self-deprecating joke, but on the inside, I’m in fits. I’m not the most capable! Why has my age given me this position? Who gave me this position? Am I just like the adult king in The Little Prince, foolishly giving myself power and status where none has been earned? On the second planet, there is a very vain man. Now, I’ve always been a bit of an attention seeker, which is probably why I have a great interest in getting applause for a living, but it is different when you are playing a part. The vain man desperately wants everyone’s approval, and society is certainly preparing me for a lot of that. Even if I don’t think highly of them, my “success” is supposed to be dependent upon how much people like me. While writing application essays, I am supposed to make people admire me because, “Golly gee, I am the best person out there for your school.” In a job interview, I have to make my potential employer say, “Wow, not only does she seem capable of doing this job, but she also comes off as a swell person!” As such, I’m being conditioned to seek everyone’s approval so that when it comes time, behaving to encourage admiration will come easily to me, and I can’t deny, I may already be a full-fledged adult on that count. Just writing that sentence makes me unendurably unhappy! Can’t you see what you have done, Mr. de Saint-Exupery?

Before I am too caught up in my feelings, I’ll move on to the planet inhabited by the business-man, a self-nominal serious person and owner of stars. I don’t even have to tell you how pressured my friends and I are into becoming “serious” people. Adults would have life become a veritable library, where you can only check out experiences and you must keep your voice down at all costs. My Biology teacher once walked into the classroom when we were all laughing and shouted, “This is not how AP Biology students should act!” Apparently happiness should be repressed, and oh, Mr. de Saint-Exupery, I am so afraid it is working. I am scared that I don’t smile as much as I used to or that it takes more effort for me to be enthusiastic. Then, of course, you would be ashamed to hear how greedy I have gotten. I’ll do anything for the money that will send me to college. Recently, I have been writing scholarship essays. Do I believe what I’m writing? Maybe, maybe not, but sometimes, I fear it doesn’t even matter to me. I agonize that I have no more care for the artistry of writing than the businessman had for the stars.

On the next planet, the lamp lighter is harried over a job that does not even matter. He is not helping anyone. Of course, schooling conditions to stress over meaningless jumble. Don’t get me wrong, Mr. de Saint-Exupery, I’m rather fond of school, but you have to admit that sometimes, it is just busy work with an extremely close due date. I believe passionately in what I want to do, though, and would never call it a terrible job, even if I do starve, unlike the lamp lighter, so I feel I am relatively safe from that fate. I’m also pretty well protected from the geographer’s struggle because I have no desire to stay safely tucked away on my own little planet. I want to explore the world. Nevertheless, do you perceive how The Little Prince has hurt me, Mr. de Saint-Exupery? Seeing all these ways that I am turning into an adult, what you have cast as the worst possible thing to be, is making me miserable, the most grown-up quality of all. It is a vicious cycle of me being upset because I’m becoming a grown-up and me becoming a grown-up because I’m upset, like the drunk on his planet drinking to forget that he is ashamed of drinking. Therefore, Mr. de Saint-Exupery, I politely request that you stop telling me not to grow up. It isn’t helping the situation because quite frankly, I can’t help aging, and the older I get, the more the world will want me to grow-up. I’ll do my best to maintain a child-like mindset, and I will always be able to see the elephant inside the boa constrictor, but I would like it if you stopped looking at my age. I’m not my age. I am just an annual continuation of me. Be sure to subscribe. Wow, the little prince would be very proud of me for denouncing grown-up numbers. Perhaps I’m not so grown-up after all.

Well, Mr. de Saint-Exupery, it has been a pleasure confiding in you. Just because The Little Prince and I disagree over adulthood does not make it any less to me. As long as the little prince loves his rose, your book will have a place on my bedside table. So, you know, always.

Fondly Yours,

Hannah

LEVEL 3, 9-12 GRADES

Second Place

Brett Gobert

Port Allen High School

Port Allen, LA

Dear Sarah Dessen,

With every book I’ve read, I always feel like I walk away from it with a little bit more of an understanding of the world as well as a calming satisfaction. Your books have managed to make the biggest mark on my life.

Before my sophomore year in high school, I had only heard your name from friends who had read your works. I was always the girl to go to about fictional books about vampires, not so much those of the drama and romance variety. My room during that time consisted of a large bookshelf brimming with fantasies, video games galore, and page after page of unfinished vampire stories.

My English II teacher had assigned us to read one of three books, a basketball book, a historical book, or This Lullaby, that we were to be tested on. I chose This Lullaby for mine. Something about it, be it your writing style or the story line itself, wouldn’t allow me to put it down until I had finished it. That book lead to Lock and Key, Just Listen, Along for the Ride, The Truth about Forever, and more.

It was strange for me because the more of your books I read, the more I found myself asking my mom to go with me to buy shorts and girlier clothes (which she had to pull teeth to get me to do before). The stories I write went from vampire kidnappers to teens with family problems. I even started to wish for a boyfriend that I could waste my summers with. It took me awhile to realize that I liked to replace my t-shirt for nice, dressy girl shirts every now and then; furthermore, I started reading girly magazines instead of playing video games for days on end.

Another way I can relate to your books is that they all take place in a small town or community where everyone knows everyone. That is exactly the kind of place I’ve grown up in. Those hole in the wall places where everything seems to happen, the places you ritually go, the spots everyone knows not to go. It’s a place that sometimes feels like a cage and sometimes feels boring, but will ultimately always be your home.

One day, while reading Along for the Ride, I sat back and listened to people’s conversations around me. I realized that day that people have become enveloped in one thing or another. I turned one way, and people were talking about parties, boys and what they look like. I turned the other way, and those people were talking about nothing but grades and assignments. It made me think, in a single person’s life, there is no balance between all of those things, but as a whole, there is a sort of absolute balance.

I believe that it’s because of your books that I’ve taken more chances and taken opportunities that, before, I would have never thought to take. As in most of your books, the idea that one summer, as fleeting and limited as it may be, can change you so fully and completely in the best way, has enticed me to go and make the best of everything thrown my way.

Out of all of the books that I have read so far, yours have had the biggest impact on my life. In almost everything I do, be it my focus in school, the way I hold myself, or even the way I hang out with my friends, it can most likely be traced back to that sophomore year in my English class with This Lullaby.

Sincerely,

Brett Gobert

LEVEL 3, 9-12 GRADES

Third Place

Claire Bullock

Homeschool

Zachary, LA

“I have claimed that Escape is one of the main functions of fairy-stories, and since I do not disapprove of them, it is plain that I do not accept the tone of scorn or pity with which ‘Escape’ is now so often used. Why should a man be scorned if, finding himself in prison, he tries to get out and go home? Or if he cannot do so, he thinks and talks about other topics than jailers and prison-walls?”

-J.R.R. Tolkien

Dear Mr. Tolkien,

When I was five years old, my father brought home a new book to read to me every evening before bed. He had been reading aloud to me since I was very small, and was one of the little traditions of our household. The book was your novel, The Hobbit. I had heard stories about strange people and strange lands before, but this one was different. It felt as if I were there in the story with Bilbo, fighting spiders and riddling with Gollum. Every night, Dad would try to do the voices of all the characters, which made me laugh. When the chapter over, I would always ask for more…and he would always say, “Tomorrow night.”

After The Hobbit, we read The Lord of the Rings, and The Silmarillion. With this strong foundation in classic fantasy literature, I began to write stories of my own. I hope one day people might read and love my writing in the way they love yours.

Recently, I was doing research to write a paper on you and your works and I began to find out more about your personal life…the man behind the books. I was fascinated. I came to understand how your own experiences gave you the inspiration to write about such pain and loss, and about overcoming it. Your devotion to your family and friends, your heroism in the First World War, and the beautiful love story of you and your wife, Edith, struck me in the same way that your stories did. It was delightful to learn your “back story” such as how being stung by a spider as a child led you to write of giant evil spiders in your fictional world. And I was touched to learn that Edith was the inspiration for Luthien, the most beautiful woman ever to live in Middle Earth. I read that you’d always loved “fairy-stories,” especially old myths and tales of glory. I learned how your works reflect ancient tales as Beowulf. Was that intentional? I suppose Beowulf must have set the standard for its time, and the stories of Middle Earth did the same for our time. Your books have even inspired several successful movies! I wonder sometimes, what you would think of Peter Jackson’s film adaptations of your books. You might hate them, as they are much too short! Then again, you might be impressed with the dazzling new technology that allows your stories to come to life.

I think your amazing characters are the main appeal and inspiration to your readers. They were my closest companions as I read and reread your books. Loving, strong, courageous characters like Aragorn have motivated me to be more loving, strong and courageous. Sam Gamgee taught me loyalty, Gandalf made me wise, and Frodo Baggins became my trusted friend. I often wonder if you know the extent to which you’ve inspired the thousands of people who have read, loved, and lived your works. It seems a whole generation of fantasy literature started with one small Hobbit. There isn’t a fantasy book written since your books were published that doesn’t reflect them in some way. You truly are one of the greatest inventors of dreams in the modern age. From everything I’ve learned about you, your life seems to me to be one of the fullest ever lived. Once, you said that when you read an enjoyable work of fiction, your immediate response was to want to write something like it. That is how I feel after reading your novels. Today, everything I write has its roots in your works, and everything I read makes me think of your world. In my darkest hours, you words have been there to inspire me. Not only have your books inspired me, but also your incredible personal history and your overall wisdom. I would be a different person, if not for you and your books, Mr. Tolkien. As I pursue my writing career, I hope I can create something as wonderful and glorious as Middle Earth. Maybe someday I will.

Sincerely,

Claire M. Bullock

P.S. I would also like to thank you most sincerely for Eowyn, who was strong and female before it was cool. Thank you, thank you. It means a lot to me.

LEVEL 3, 9-12 GRADES

Honorable Mention

Madelyn Gaharan

Bolton High School

Alexandria, LA

Dear Walt Whitman:

My favorite teacher gave me his used copy of Leaves of Grass several years ago in hopes that I would love it the way that he does. As a younger student I never expected a book full of confusing similes to be something I even dare to read, and much less enjoy. In time of owning the beat up, paperback book, I opened it and read the first few stanzas. Hopelessly confused, but definitely determined, I continued to flip through the pages, seeing annotations along the way of specific lines my teacher enjoys. Specifically, I remember the addresses made on “Self Reliance” that were circled that were stanzas that I, myself, would have circled. Words became more than words as pages continued to flip, and gradually I became engrossed in the story that poetry produces.

As an awkward middle school student reading words that at times made little sense, I stayed perplexed at the way pairings of words that I did understand could evoke a feeling. I had never dealt with words that were paired so interestingly, or read the way many of the poems in Leaves of Grass read. There had never been a reason, or a motivation to read poetry. Reading such a book was a completely new experience, and different from any other book I had ever read. The concept intrigued me then, and continues to now. This marked the first time of my exploration of poetry, and was definitely not the last. Leaves of Grass created a milestone that more to books exists than just a story in the same standard setting. Particularly in “Spontaneous Me,” I remember making my own annotations around specific stanzas, which later I went back to read. Time went on and I never finished Leaves of Gras; however, shortly thereafter, the book found its way back into my hands, and I restarted, and this time, finished. Reading the entire book though, was enjoyable. I like that to read a book of poetry it is not necessary to read it cover to cover, but that I can flip around to a specific poem that I want to read, or even to a specific stanza.

Leaves of Grasstwo years later continues to be one of the only books I go back to and flip the pages of, seeking inspiration for my own artistic endeavors. Two of the activities I practice the most in are studio art, such as painting and drawing, and also song writing. These two endeavors require a lot of inspiration to continue producing a product. Leaves of Grass became a melting pot of inspiration to guide my art by reminiscing on the way rhymes and words helped shape some of the largest transitions in my life so far through your words on religion, and how to remain true to oneself in times of struggle. The transition between junior high and high school sparked issue for me dealing with some of those issues, so reading poetry that almost directly addressed the struggles was comforting. When I reached the seventh or eighth time of flipping back to book marked pages, it was then I realized that a book can be more than just a story, but a way to reflect on feelings I have had personally through another’s writing.

Leaves of Grassis a timeless book for me. I cannot wait to pass this collection of stories down to someone so that hopefully they can be affected and inspired the way I was when I first read, and still am today. Thank you, Mr. Whitman, for writing a piece of literature that will never leave my life. It is rare to read a book and feel instantly inspired by what it has to offer by every combination of words written on the pages.

Sincerely,

Madelyn Gaharan

LETTERS ABOUT LITERATURE

List of Finalists

Level I

Brusly Middle School, Brusly

Mya Pitre

Alex Spencer

Alexadra Wilson

Cedar Creek School, Ruston

Sarah Katherine McCallum

Epiphany Day School, New Iberia

Edie Bollich

Mary Large

Michelle Sapienza

Episcopal High School, Baton Rouge

Charlie Roth

Fifth Ward Jr. High, Bush

Avery Collins

Haughton Middle School, Haughton

Matthew Bailey

Cass Davis

Morgan McVey

Andrew Morton

Lauren Stroupe

Jefferson Island Road Elementary, New Iberia

Tyler Derise

Brooklyn Mire

Louise S. McGehee School, New Orleans

Erika Jensen

Annie Lagarde

Rosie Odem

Aisling O’Keefe

Ella Paton

Annie Sternbergh

Sophia Strander

Lusher Charter School, New Orleans

Sescha Grenda

Julianne Lamy

Caitlin McFarland

Walker Robinson

Joseph Scarmuzza

Ashley Woods

Northwestern Middle School, Zachary

John Thomas Hernandez

Riverside Elementary, Pearl River

Delbert Gonzales

Lindsey McIlhargey

St. Edward the Confessor School, Metairie

Abbey Dubey

Alaina Kellum

Skyler Mouton

Ross Reynolds

Karlie Schnauder

Adam Strain

Caroline Turley

Southern Magnolia Montessori School, Abita Springs

Emma Cacioppo

Isabel Fisk

Jack White

Tchefuncte Middle School, Mandeville

Jackson Baynham

Rory Brandrett

Sydney Bray

Clara Brown

Mallory Edney

Sebastian Escobar-Mesa

Ave Frilot

Weatherly Hall

Gabe Housey

Allie Lemmond

Payton Lyons

Isabella Mejia

Anna Olinde

Abigail Rase

Gabriele Sudmann

Alden Sonnier

Lily Tyson

Tristin Viger

Level II

Brusly Middle School

Mya Pitre

Alex Spencer

Alexandra Wilson

Cedar Creek School, Ruston LA

Sarah Katherine McCallum

Fifth Ward Jr. High

Avery Collins

Glasgow Middle School, Baton Rouge

Victoria Breithaupt

Alexandrina Yakimov

Haughton Middle School

Matthew Baily

Cass Davis

Individual Entry

Nykala Bell, Lafayette

Jefferson Island Road Elementary

Brooklyn Mire

Louis S. McGehee School, New Orleans

Julia Beery

Caroline Benoit

Cecilia Blanchard

Holly Brown

Millie Faber

Taylor Franks

Megan Greenebaum

Erika Jensen

Ruby Kline

Annie Lagarde

Grace Moses

Pia Mulleady

Rosie Odem

Aisling O’Keefe

Ella Paton

Emma Perez

Annie Sternbergh

Sophia Strander

Alexandria Trapp

Jay Xiang

Hannah Ziegler

Lusher Charter School, New Orleans

Sescha Pandora Grenda

Hudson Henderson

Julianne Lamy

Caitlin McFarland

Walker Robinson

Joseph Scarmuzza

Julia Simon

Ashley Woods

Jay Xiang

Northwestern Middle School, Zachary

Alexis Albert

Charlie Cantwell

Destiny Louis

Madison Russell

Jessica Staggs

Paige Veal

Jesse Venable

Our Lady of Fatima School, Lafayette

Vivian Nguyen

AnnaGrace Schoeftler

Paul Breaux Middle, Lafayette

Brynne Tynes

St. Paul’s School, Covington

Patrick Baldone

Ealon Boudreaux

Jordan Edney

Matt Endres

Lester Guttuso

Hanzala Hussain

Mason Jinks

Forge Mathes

Jack Nunez

Level III

Mount Carmel Academy, New Orleans

Bridget Wallis

Bolton High School, Alexandria

Lindsay Bollinger

Cory Koch

Maddie Manual

Omar Shbeeb

Emma Townley

Tamara Williams

Cedar Creek School, Ruston

Kathryn Ann Bryan

Individual

Nykala Bell, Lafayette

Mount Carmel Academy

Bridget Wallis

Northeast High School, Pride

Brandi Graham

Northwestern Middle School

Brailyn King

Brandi Graham

St. Paul’s School, Covington

Tyler Babcock

John Birdsong

Thomas Bowden

Thomas Carriere

Yehia Elkersh

Ian Fried

Ryan Flood

Dylan Futrell

Lloyd Guillot

Carter Jarrell

Michael Longo

Connor McCarthy

William Murphy

Patrick Napier

Kiefer Napolitano

Alex Oliveri

Christian Rabalais

Colin Reilly

Marshall Roy

Koby Schexnayder

James A. Seese, III

Shane Strander

Max Teppes

Owen Waguespack

Austin Willis

Contact:

Paulita Chartier
State Library of Louisiana
225.342.9713
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Jacques Berry
Office of the Lieutenant Governor
225.342.8607
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